Always With You
by vocalspaz88
Summary: Dave just wants to feel normal again, even if it only lasts five minutes, but will going back to the apartment he grew up do the trick? His old home is full of memories, beautiful memories he wouldn't trade in a million years, but is he ready to face the ones that hurt?


When Dave opened the door to his old apartment, he didn't know what he was expecting. His heart pounding, his chest felt tight, and when he stepped inside, the floor creaked under his weight. He drew in a sharp breath, but kept going. There was no one else in the room; he knew it, never before had it felt so empty. "I don't like this," He said to himself. The sound of his cape swishing against the hardwood floor was sending shivers up his spine, he couldn't stand it. Silence made sounds that went usually unnoticed seem eerie and unnatural. Still, something drove Dave forward.

The kitchen was still a mess, exactly as he remembered it, only as he took a closer look, he noticed that everything was covered in a thick sheet of dust. He sneezed so suddenly that he startled himself. "Get a grip," He muttered, rubbing his arms as the chill set in. "It's fucking Lohac, I shouldn't be shivering."

Dave had come back to the apartment for a reason, and he was starting to regret it. He had thought if he could only see the place again, he would feel the way he did when it was his home. He thought he would have been able to relax, feel safe and carefree like before, but the longer he walked around, touching the treasures of his past, he knew that there was something very important missing from the memory of home. Taking a deep breath, Dave tip toed down the hall, hearing the floorboards creek just where they always did, reminding him of nights when he was little, startled from sleep by a bad dream or thunder. Fear, loneliness, or sometimes nothing at all would drive Dave down that very hallway. For a long time he paused, hand hovering over the door knob before he finally reached for it, entering the room.

One look around and his throat felt tight and hot, like he couldn't breathe. Smuppets and old clothes littered the floor, making friends with the discarded mangas and unsheathed swords. Dave covered his mouth against a whimper, hot tears already spilling down his cheeks, beyond the safety of his shades. He had come back to the house to feel safe, but that had been stupid. The only thing about that apartment that made him feel safe had been the man who lived there with him, took care of him, and protected him from every danger. Kneeling down, Dave scooped up one of the man's old white button ups, remembering how they made up a solid ninety percent of his wardrobe. He brought the shirt up to his face and nuzzled into it, inhaling his brother's scent like it was oxygen, like he needed it to live. "Bro," He choked, curling up on his side, gripping the article so tight it hurt. "Bro I need you so bad right now."

Bro had always been there when Dave was upset or scared. The man had taught him to mask his emotions, to always protect his heart from harm, and to only open up to one person, because the only one a guy could trust in the whole world, was his bro. Dave had taken the lesions to heart, but since playing sburb, he hadn't been able to cope the same way he had as a kid. When the monsters came, he had to face them, he had to fight and protect his friends. When it was time for bed, he was all alone, there was no one to tell him goodnight. Worse than that even, when it stormed and thunder rendered him helpless and afraid, Bro wasn't just down the hall. Bro wouldn't be able to hold him, kiss him, or rock him to sleep. "Why did you have to fucking die?" Dave angrily sobbed, his voice breaking, thick with emotion. "You… You selfish bastard, I need you with me! You said you'd always be with me, but you're not."

Hours passed, Dave kept crying, mourning the death of his guardian in a way he hadn't been able to before. He hadn't had the chance, even after three years on that damned meteor he never truly mourned. There had always been another task, another character or situation to deal with. Though back in the apartment all alone, he was forced to face his loss head on. Eventually he tired himself out, falling asleep with that shirt clutched tight in his fists. He absconded into his dreams, seeking refuge, comfort, or even a reason to get off of the floor.

"I'm not your snot rag, little man, cut that sniveling. I raised you better."

When Dave opened his eyes, his fears were confirmed. He no longer clung to an old, discarded shirt. The one he clung to still fit snugly to a body, a breathing body, with a steady heart beat and two strong arms. They wrapped snuggly around Dave's waist, but he just shook his head, more tears spilling down his face. "You're dead," Dave managed, voice barely audible. "No, you aren't here… You're gone."

"Wrong," The man whispered, gently stroking Dave's pale blonde hair. "I'm lying right here with you, aren't I?"

"No, you're not," Dave sniffed, wiping at his eyes and turning his head, not wanting to let his hopes soar, despite how they already had. "You're not real; this is just a fucking dream."

"So?"

"So when I wake up, I'm going to be alone again," Dave cried. "You'll be gone, I'll be cold, lonely, and fucking scared to death because I'll have _no one _to make it better_._"

"Wrong again," The man chuckled, sitting up just enough to look his little brother in the eyes. Dave reluctantly looked back, flinching at the light when his shades were slipped away from his face. "Look at me," Bro said, setting the glasses aside. "Listen to the sound of my voice. I will _always _be with you when you need me, no matter what I have to do. Be it in a dream, a memory, or a nudge in the right direction when you're lost, I'm always with you Dave, because I am a part of you. If I taught you anything at all in life, you'll never forget that."

"But Bro-"

"But nothing," He interrupted. "You've got to wake up now and face the world, you have a lot a head of you, little man. Make me proud."

Dave squeezed his eyes shut as another tear slipped down his cheek, and Bro gave him a sad sort of look, leaning in to kiss the drop of moisture away. "I love you, Dave."

Dave drew in a shaky breath, but when he opened his eyes to respond, all he could see was the rumpled white shirt in his hands, wet with the tears he had cried even in his sleep. "I miss you," He whispered, clutching it tight. "I miss you so much."


End file.
